Alphabet Soup
by Laina Inverse
Summary: A letter-based challenge, using characters from Oblivion, Mass Effect, Skyrim, and others
1. Skyrim: Glimmer

**A-Acccptable**

Glimmer brushe her fingers over the dress, a nervous gesture that told many tales. What would they think, she wondered, of her. Dragonborn? Well, the Graybeards had summoned her, to be true, so maybe her appearance didn't matter so much to them.

Still, it mattered to her. She hadn't really been given many chances to make a favorable impression on anyone, recently, and she wanted them to think her capable. Capable of _what_, she didn't know; this new power, these... Shouts, or Thu'um, they frightened her. She was just a _bard_, what did she know about power, or... or being the blood of a dragon?

She tugged up the hood of her cloak, then straightened her gloves. Then her belt. Then she fiddled with her hair. Finally, the whining and shivering of Meeko, her dog, made her take the last few steps up to High Hrothgar, and into the home of the Graybeards.

**B-Bard**

"You, you're... You're Glimmer Golden-Voice, aren't you?"

Glimmer blushed, ducking her head.

"I am," she said meekly "Though, just Glimmer is fine. I'm not much for titles."

Malborn just stared at the innocent looking woman across from him, then made a disgusted noise.

"I thought Delphine was going to send me someone who knew what she was doing!" he complained. "You don't look like you know which end of a sword to hold!"

"I know enough!" the Breton said defensively. "Are you going to help us or not?"

**C-Celestial**

Glimmer lifted her head as the lights blazed in streamers across the night sky The velvet darkness, speckled with brilliant pinpoint of stars was now colored blue and green by the lights. She could watch them forever, really.

Though it was probably a bad idea, she stirred her small campfire, then pulled out her flute and started trying to weave a melody around the glowing skyfire.

**D-Dragon**

She heard Ralof as feeling started returning to her body. He was telling her to get up, to get moving... but when she lifted her head, and caught sight of the big, black drgon, she was transfixed. The large Nord finally had to grab her by the shoulders and shove her towards a tower for safety.

**E-Energy**

"Where do you get your energy from?" Hadvar asked as Glimmer paced around the camp restlessly. "Most people, before a fight, are dead to the world."

"That's because you're used to it," she told him, though a smile took any sting out of the words. "I'm not... I'm scared.."

"Here now..."

Hadvar got up, and reached out to comfort the small Breton. Not entirely wise, mayhaps, given that there was still a war to be won, but it was hard to not want to comfort her when she was this aggitated.

**F-Flight**

Hesitantly, Glimmer climbed onto Odhaviing's back, ahead of his shoulders and wings. Then, as he took off, she held on for dear life, and did her level best not to shriek. She could feel a rumble beneath her; the dragon was laughing, or so it seemed.

At first, the jolting upward thrust of his wings made her bot afraid she was going to fall off, and sick to her stomach in turns, but once he leveled out, high above the world, she garnered the courage to open her eyes and look.

Awe was the very first thing that passed through her. She had always been ambilvelant about heights, but up so high, with the rest of the world stretching out like a canvas below her, she wasn't afraid. She was awed. Amazed.

Somehow, she would have to fit the flight to a song.

**G-Growth**

Privately, Lydia had not thought much of her Thane. The Breton seemed timid; meek. Uncomfortable with the news that she _was_ Thane, and entitled to a guard and home in Whiterun.

But now, with the woman both a fullfledged Dragonborn, not to mention one of the great heroes of the war, she seemed to have changed. Or maybe it was the man who was now part of her life. Either way, she seemed to have blossomed some; grown more confident, more aware.

Now, Glimmer Golden-Voice was a Breton that Lydia was proud to serve.

**H-Hadvar**

Glimmer tried not to dwell; Hadvar had duties to perform, and she was just one simple Breton What use had a Nord for a Breton, besides mockery? But... he had been kind to her. He had helped protect her on their way out of Helgen after the dragon attack.

And he had the most soothing voice.

Not that she'd made a good impression, crying and shaking because she had been captured alongside these... Stormcloaks. Hell, she hadn't expected the Imperials to just bum-rush her out of nowhere, and the crack to the head had done her no favors in that regard.

Yet... yet here he was at the Riverwood inn, The Sleeping Giant. Where she had agreed to play for a few nights so as to pay for her lodgings.

Her eyes flicked across the rom as she silently played her lute, and she wondered, with a sharp pang in her heart, if he even recognized her all cleaned up.

**I-Ice**

She yelped as her feet skidded across the water-slicked surface of the ice, and landed unceremoniously on her backside. Ice was better than the water, or so she presumed, but it was hard, unforgiving, and damnably cold!

**J-Justice**

Everywhere she went, when people learned that the war wa over, they al said the same thing. Ulfric the king-killer had finally met justice.

Glimmer, eyes hooded with shadows, wasn't sure she agreed. Oh, yes, he was dead, and he _had_ killed his High King but... was that really justice? The Thalmor had taken worship of Talos from him, from all the Nords.

Still, Hadvar had made a good point, reminding her that until Ulfric had started stirring people up, the Empire hadn't really cared one way or the other about the ot-so-secret worship of Talos.

**K-Killing**

The first time Glimmer killed, she didn't have the time to have a panic-fit over it. Hadvar was constantly urging her on, insisting they keep moving. Oh, she had used her magic before, to protect herself from bandits, but taking a life? That... that was terrifying.

**L-Legacy**

Though she was unaware of the source of her dragon blood, that wan't the case with Esbern.

"You've got Imperial ancestry," the old man informed her one night. "The very last Emporer, Martin Septim, and the hero of the Oblivion Crisis were old friends. It's their blood that runs through your veins now."

**M-Mother**

Glimmer lay back in her bed, exhausted from the strain of birth. Nearby, Lydia and the midwife cleaned up the child, and outside the room she could hear Hadvar pacing back and forth, an anxious new father at long last. But mostly what she heard was the new cries of her son.

**N-Nature**

Glimmer enjoyed walking the wilds of Skyrim. When they weren't trying to kill her. She could admire the stately old trees, listen to the peaceful rush of the river, collect ingrediants for her potions, and explore any old ruins she found. After battling Alduin, nothing seemed scary any more.

**O-Odhaviing**

She looked at the rust-colored dragon with trepidition. He was indeed caught, but that made him no less dangerous, given that he could still breath fire if he so chose.

**P-Paarthurnax**

The first time she met Paarthurnax, Glimmer had shrieked like a child, and flung herself into cover. The old dragon had bee so bemused by this action that he'd landed, and waited for her to come out of hiding before he spoke at all.

Once they did start talking however, Glimmer found her fright melting away. His voice, while similar to Alduin's, had an unexpected warmth, a glint of humor she hadn't expected. Though, to be fair, she'd expected to see an old man, in a stone building, not a dragon!

**Q-Quiet**

Glimmer sat quietly on a rock, the chill wind swirling around her as she looked down over the land below. It was amazing, still, to see everything stretched out beneath her like this. And the silence was unmatched by anything else; Meeko and Hadvar were both asleep, and she had the night and the stone ledge, all to herself.

**R-Rest**

"_**ENOUGH**_!"

The halls of High Hrothgar shook with the force of Glimmer's Shout, though no power had been used. She had learned, finally, how to twist her power to affect her natural voice, and it had gotten the necessary , save the Graybeards, had fallen silent, all eyes on her.

"I am tired," she said in her normal voice. "I have gotten _maybe_ three hours of sleep in the past four days trying to convince you stubborn men to come to this peace meeting so that I can take care of one thing, and one thing only. Alduin. If you will not barter _nicely_, like civilized men, _I_ will mke the decisions!"

**S-Sovngarde**

When she leapt through the portal to Sovngarde, she didn't really have an expectation. She just wanted to stop Alduin and end the madness. As her eyes cleared, and she beheld the sight of the land of the dead, she felt a pang of longing twist through her.

Oh, if _only_ she had bee born a Nord. To have this place be her final rest would have been... wonderful. If at all possible, she would attempt to set a description of Sovngarde down on paper, and then set that to music.

**T-Twilight**

As duk fell, Odahviing landed, letting Glimmer down. In what had become something of a ritual, he waited while she gathered wood for a fire, then lit it. He had taken a liking to this odd little dovahkiin, and other than when he went off hunting, he minded little being her companion.

It helped that she picked up books wherever she went, and enjoyed reading them aloud. The stories were rarely about the dov, but that was all right. She had a way of making the stories fascinating.

**U-Unknown**

The Collegeof Mages had Glimmer all a-flutter in excitement. So many books, so much knowledge on things she'd never thought about! It was hard to know where to start!

**V-Victory**

With judicious ue of Yol, and fire spells, Glimmer helped the Legionaire's clear a path through Windhelm to the Palace of Kings where Ulfric dwelled. The fights were brutal, sharp, and painful; more than once, Glimmer had to stop and yank out an arrow which had become lodged in her flesh, or in her armor. Healing spells patched her right up, at least, and she was there when Rikke and Tulius brought down Ulfric for their final victory.

**W-Wisdom**

"It takes more wisdom to know when to _not_ use the power, than it does to use it indiscriminately," Glimmer said tiredly, stifling a yawn.

She didn't expect Delphine to understand; for someone who was sworn to help the Dragonborn, the Imperial certainly didn't _do_ much. Especially not now that they were all in Cloud Haven Temple.

"What does _that_ have to do with killing Paarthurnax," Delphine asked irritably.

"Everything. I won't do it. I like him."

**X-(e)xaggerate**

Glimmer had fretted herself into sleep under Agamir's watchful eyes. He did not doubt that she was afraid, but he had to wonder if she wasn't exagerating the situation some. Or maybe there was something the golden-hued Breton had failed to tell him. She always seemed so... particular about her words.

On the one hand, Agamir appreciated the caution of choosing the right words. On the other, it made for a great deal of dancing about the subject.

**Y-Yesterday**

"We are never who we were yesterday, we are not who we'll be tomorrow," Glimmer sang softly, strumming her lute. "All things change from moment to moment, as the dragons rise again."

**Z-Zealous**

It was unnerving to watch the old man in Whitehold working himself up into a religious frenzy about Talos. Tiber Septim. He was so devout, it bordered on zealotry, and that was just terrifying.


	2. Skyrim: Morigannae

**A-Arrival**

This was _not_ how she'd meant to arrive in Skyrim. Though really, Skyrim had been the only place she'd never wanted to go, given the choice. Unfortunately, it was the only place with a Sanctuary left. Which meant she'd walked right into this ambush left for those idiot... what, Stormcloaks?

Morigannae snorted, tossing her head a little. Come hell or high water, she would escape from these Imperials, and the Stormcloaks as well, yes. Let them perpetuate the stupid war without her; she had a Sanctuary to find.

**B-Boredom**

When all was said and done, Morigannae was bored. Bored, bored, bored! And that was a bad thing. When she got bored, things turned up missing. People turned up dead. And a lot of things ended up exploding, or on fire.

Well, watching people run around screaming was more entertaining than anything else...

**C-Caught**

She didn't know where she was, but she was _damned_ certain that it wasn't her room at the inn. She could smell old blood, and hear... voices. A kahjiit... and two others.

Hell, this wasn't about the Aretino boy, was it?

Slowly, she opened her glass-blue eyes, and immediately picked out the form or another woman, lounging on a low bookshelf.

Yup. This was about the Aretino boy. Or, more likely, his contract.

**D-Dark Brotherhood**

Instead of being killed for taking a contract, she had been... welcomed. Initiated, and brought into the Brotherhood. The sanctuary was not what she'd picutred, but it was servicable enough. And the others in it...

Morigannae was not one for nicknames, but she had immediately been dubbed Mori. Ironically, it wan't the child-sized vampire, but the older Redguard, Naziir, who had tagged her.

And she didn't mind.

**E-Elf**

Just ebcause she was an elf, she was treated with hatred and suspicion. By the gods, she wasn't a damned Thalmor Altmeri, she was just a dark-skinned Bosmer! A Wood elf!

Though, not exactly harmless. Not by a long shot. And anyone who forgot that learned anew a painful lesson. Depending on how _badly_ they forgot it, the lesson could become quite permanent.

**F-Filching**

She glanced left, she glanced right. Then, with a slight of hand she had perfected over years of training with her parents, she slid the jewelry from it's place at the corner of the stall, and into her pocket.

No one, not even the shop keeper, paid her any mind.

It was a good day to earn some money.

**G-Gilded**

The dark armor with it's various enchantments was nice~ But breaking down those enchantments for her own armor was eve nicer, especially when her particular armor lent more to protection that the shrouded stuff.

Oh, sure, gilded armor was ostentatious, but she wasn't above a little flash and glitter sometimes. Besides, it was far more protective than the padded cloth and leather, even if it did clink. When it was necessary to be stealthy, it didn't give away a damned thing.

**H-Haughty**

Her first impression of Astrid was pride. Pride and arrogance. Since Morigannae herself was guilty of both those features, it didn't seem to be that big of a deal. As long as Astrid didn't start putting on haughty airs or anything, Mori could work quite willingly with her.

**I-Insane**

Talking to a coffin, with the remains of the Night Mother? Well, okay, that was decidedly questionable, but Cicero clearly wante so bad to be the Listener. Morigannae just counted herself lucky that he hadn't stabbed her right away when she'd staggered out of the thing, choking a little on the cloying scent of ages-old death.

No, now she was wondering if _she_ wasn't the insane one, hearing the voice of the Night Mother. Being teh Listener, her? That wasn't something she'd ever aspired to be... Thought about, daydreamed about when she wasn't so bored that lighting things on fire seemed fun, but never actually _wanted_.

...Though in this place, sanity seemed highly over-rated as it was...

**J-Jester**

"I hate jesters," Naziir groused as Morigannae sat down at the table. "And this one seems worse than the rest."

She rolled her eyes a little, and stole some bread from his plate.

"You complain too much," she informed the Reguard, who stared at her with annoyed incredulity. "If he's the Night Mother's caretaker, who are we to turn him away? Who knows, maybe you could be the listener, Naz."

He grimaced at the nickname, but didn't protest. He was the one, after all, who had called her 'Mori' first.

**K-Kill**

Morigannae had been trained as an assasin for a good long while; ever since she'd indicated to her parents that she wanted to follow in their footsteps. Sort of. Her father had been a legal assassin of the Morag Tang, while her mother had been an adventurer with former ties to an old Brotherhood Sanctuary that had been raided long ago.

She made her first kill when she was seventeen; She never looked back.

**L-Life**

She looked down at the badly wounded Cicero contemplatively. On the one hand, Astrid had been blasphemous and disbelieving about the Night Mother and all that she was. She'd had the gall to think that her way was better, even though the Brotherhood was barely on its legs as it was!

On the other, Cicero had gone farther than he should have. Attacking the leader of the Sanctuary was no small matter...

Finally, she turned on her heel and walked away, paying heed to the shade of Lucien LaChance who guarded her back. If the Dread Father did not want the Jester, she was going to spare his life, and be damned to Astrid's complaints.

**M-Mystery**

Naziir contemplated the mixed-race elf across the table from him, her pitch-black hair falling over the grain of the wood as she slept, head on arms. Morigannae was... odd. But fascinating. She took his dry wit, and came back with something even more dry, but wickedly humorous. She had flashes of times where she seemed to be both more human and more inhuman than anyone else he'd ever met in this Family.

And that was saying something, given the way Babette was.

**N-Naziir**

No one in the family interested her the way Naziir did. He was a Redguard, a human, but that was barely a blip on her attention; her mother had been a Bosmer, her father a Dunmer. He had a dry wit that she found appealing, and his voice was... deep. Throaty.

She liked it. And so, she desired him. There was little said of love, for that was not what it was, initially. It was just desire and wanting.

But the Brotherhood came first.

**O-Other**

It was nice to have a place to belong, even if the Listener's duties felt awkward on her shoulders. She had long since grown tired of being the 'other,' the 'intruder' upon places. Being welcomed was different and new.

**P-Particular**

She eyed the armor, laid out on the stand with an expression of muted dislike. On the one hand, it was perfectly decent armor. It would protect her from a variety of things, but comparitively, her current armor was actually... better. Oh sure it stood out like the sun when she wasn't actively attempting to be quiet and stealthy, but still.

It helped that she had made and enchanted her current armor with her own two hands. It fit her Just So, and she wasn't about to trade that for two hours worth of fiddling, adjusting, and sizing, only to have to spend the rest of the day altering it to suit her frame.

Humans always made armor so... _bulky_.

**Q-Queen**

Morigannae may have thought it, but she never said her thoughts aloud. Astrid seemed, though, to believe herself the Sactuary's queen. Yes, she was the leader, and yes she was important, but there was only a handfull of people in the one Sanctuary, and there was no Night Mother or Listener to give orders. Most contracts were based on rumors and guesswork. How anyone could feel they had control like _that_...

**R-Ride**

She eyed the horse with ueasey trepidation. She had, admittedly, lived in cities all her life before coming to Skyrim. There had never been a need to ride a horse when one could commision a carriage, or a wagon cart to get from one place to another.

But she wasn't about to let something as measely as a four-legged animal keep her from what she was supposed to do. Besides, it would make travel to the Sanctuary faster.

**S-Shadowmere**

Moriganne looked at the mare thoughtfully, tipping her head. Shadowmere was a thing of legend, a black beast with red eyes and a fearful disposition. This horse, though, seemed just like any other horse. She pawed the ground, snorted, and lifted her head at the elf approached carefully, and it was in the eyes that Mori saw an unnatural intelligence.

They were going to get along just fine...

**T-Time**

She pushed Shadowmere as fast as the horse could run, praying she would make it to the Sanctuary, that she would be able to help kill the Imperials who were trying to kill her family. The horse, for her part, answered to the urging, and if Morigannae got whipped in the face, arms, and chest by branches, she barely paid heed to them.

They even raced past a dragon, who snorted and roared in surprise.

And still, she was too late to help.

**U-Unexpected**

Astrid's betrayel came out of nowhere. Fury lent Morigannae a ruthless edge as she shot each Legionnare sent to kill her, then shoved still more down stairs where necks and heads shattered. The fools were in her way, and Astrid had a _lot_ to answer for.

**V-Vigorous**

The first thing Morigannae did after reaching the Dawnstar Sanctuary, was take a long, _hot_ bath, and scrub every last ich of her with sand and soaps. She wanted the smells of fire and smoke out of her hair, off of her skin. And if she was scoured a little bit raw in the process, well, that was fine.

**W-Waiting**

She hadn't expected to find Cicero waiting for her outside the sanctuary; her hand fell to the Blade of Woe at her hip as the mad little mad threatened her. The sudden switch in his demeanor, from threatening to laughing and happy, threw her for a loop, and after he walked into the Sanctuary, she stared out over the half-frozen ocean, genuinely bewldered.

"...Jesters..."

**X-(e)xaminate**

Morigannae looked at the locked door with ire, then kicked a pile of snow in frustration. This was the _last_ piece of that damned amulet, and the door was locked. And it was locked in such a manner that if she wanted in, she had to go find the key, and damnit, that could be _anywhere!_

**Y-Yellow**

It was almost a secret that Morigannae liked the occasional nice thing. Usually, she preferred jewelry; gold jewelry was an especial favorite. But she also had a thing for bright yellow flowers.

Naziir didn't go out of his way too often to get them, but on the rare occasion he did, there was a little something... more to their nightly escapades.

**Z-Zap**

Using the Storm Call Thu'um never failed to entertain Morigannae. Lightning slamming into her enemy, not born of magicka, but of pure draconic power... there was something immensely satisfying about that.

Okay, and it was funny to watch the lightning come down and steal away their lives.


	3. Oblivion: Rochelle

**A-Awakening**

Her head ached like nobody's business, a combination of drink and the blow to the head which had taken her out. She tasted blood on her tongue, and spat reflexively, then groaned, and made herself sit up.

Dark hair, loosened from it's usual tail, fell into her face, tangled and matted with her own blood. Her light skin was smirched with dirt and grime, as she struggled to recall what the hell had happened... and where the hell she was.

...and _who_.

**B-Blood**

She looked at the priest, blood of the old Emperor, and tried to be objective. But it was difficult. He was a _priest_ for crying out loud, and how much could he protect himself like that?

Then again, was it fair of her to be comparitive? Her armor was dented in a half-dozen places, broken in others, and was probably going to take her a while to fix. She was also injured rather badly, and low on arrows.

**C-Calling**

The three faces of Sheogorath gae her pause, even as the Mad god himself spoke in a rolling accent, calling for a mortal champion. She glanced over her shoulder at the clearly unnerved guard, then back at the giant head with it's open mouth and swirling, multi-colored portal.

Part of her wanted to go in. There was no point to being in Cyrodill when no one knew her name, or where she had once lived... but on the other, there was something about this land that made her want to keep her feet planted firmly on the side of sanity.

"...I'll be back later," she finally murmured.

**D-Dark Brotherhood**

It had been an accident, really, killing that poor mad thing. But the Kahjiit had rushed her, and before she could think, her knife had sunk into the scrawny things ribs and through to the heart.

She had backed away quickly, flinging the dagger into the lake, too shocked and spooked to think about how much the bade had cost, and how she would replace it. She followed after quickly, swimming through the water until she reached the opposite shore and what amounted to safety before she stopped to catch her breath.

Moing away from the lake, she found a safe, somewhat dark place to hole up for the night, built a fire, and tossed down her bedroll. Sleep would bring about... well, maybe a little comfort.

Waking abruptly to find a man in black sitting across from her banked coals made her each for a weapon that was no longer there, and curse fluently. The man seemed unsurprised by her reaction; if anything, it amused him, and that annoyed her.

The offer he made though, to be given a life, a family... to be brought into the Dark Brotherhood... that was hard to ignore, and long after he'd left, she contemplated the Blade of Woe, and her limited options.

**E-Ebony**

The first time she picked up the ebony bow, she was transfixed. It was, perhaps, the most beautiful weapon she'd ever held. That was saying quite a bit, given the number of magical weapons she'd come across in her work for both the Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild.

**F-Forgotten**

She wandered around the Imperial city in a daze, finally ending up in the market district. Her small amount of gold got her some cheap wine and a few pieces of fruit, whereupon she sat down at a table, and tried to slow her confused mind.

She couldn't remember a cursed thing. Not about the city, or about the surrounding lands. Had it not been for that jerk of an elf in the cell across from hers, she wouldn't ever have guessed herself to be a Breton!

And it seemed as though no one knew her either. No one had greeted her by name (not that she remembered that either), she had no house, no companions...

**G-Gentle**

Between the Brotherhood and the Guild, it was rare that she had any time to be gentle. When she was, it was usually only to the animals, the strays that looked as though they needed food and companionship. Her dockside home in the Imperial City had several cats now, while in Cheydinhal, she had room for some dogs. She had built special dispensers for the food, so that when she wasn't there, the animas were still able to eat, and small doors to let them into the house so they could stay warm and dry.

And anyone who thought to tease her about it swiftly learned the reasno it was such a bad idea. Gentle towards animals, yes. Gentle towards people... not so much.

**H-Home**

The first house she purchased was in the Imperial City. It was a dockside house, which put it as part of the seedier side, but that was okay. She just wanted a place to call her own, instead of staying at inns every time she needed to get a little sleep.

It was a small home, with just enough room for a few dressers, a cabinet, a bed, table and a few chairs. The fireplace was a nice, unexpected touch, and warmed the little home thoroughly.

**I-Information**

Information was a weapon, one that she had gotten very good at collecting. It helped her give the members of the Guild special jobs, and also helped her decide which of the members of the Brotherhood she ought to give the Night Mother's information to.

It helped her, as well, to hae something more to focus on. The odd turns her mind would take, now that she was the Mad god Sheogorath, eased when she was going through her wealth of things that needed to be done.

**J-Justice**

Just and right were words she understood, certainly, but cared little about. She was a member of the Dark Brotherhood, killing people for the pay and the bonuses she could collect. She brought about a certain _type_ of justice, but it was a very wicked one that disregarded law.

**K-Kvatch**

The sight of the burning city froze something in her. All sorts of bells began ringing; the place was familiar, the place was a memory, the place was... had been...

The daedra that poured from the Oblivion gate snapped her out of her stunned state, and she rapidly attacked anything that got in her way, fury rising up in her. She had been on the verge of recalling something important, and they had _interrupted_ her!

**L-Loss**

She had both gained, and lost, everything in one movement. Martin. Martin her beloved, Martin her friend, Kvatch her _home!_ He had made her remember, in those last moments as he _became_ Akatosh, who she had been. What she had been. What _they_ had been.

Suddenly that one night, just prior to everything coming to a head, made more sense on his side.

And now he was gone. _Damn _him!

She wanted to forget again. So she pushed it all away. All the memories, all the time. It wasn't perfect recall, so it was almost easy to push it all away, to not concentrate on it.

**M-Martin**

As he slept, she studied him thoughtfully. He was familiar in so many aspects; it bothered her immensely to not recall a damned thing. It had been a long time since that crack to the head which had left her in the cell in the Imperial city... still, nothing had returned. Oh, there were bits and pieces on occasion, but nothing concrete, nothing with any sort of _context_ to help make sense.

So instead, she just studied him. His dark hair and tanned skin, the surprising definittion of his chest and abdomin. The way the blanket sloppily covered his lower half, one leg poking out from beneath.

It had only been a brief coupling, but he had been... tender. His hands had fumbled a little, but not so badly that she had not managed to enjoy herself some. His invitation had surprised her, but, well, as long as there was no heart involved.

**N-Nothing**

Nothing could replace Martin. Or the past she had thoroughly lost. Not even the dubious honor of becoming the Empress, or claiming his last name for herself to legitimize the child within.

She didn't _want_ the Empire, but she did want the child. It had been a stupid thing to tell the Elder Concil that she was carrying Martin's child.

But at the same time, she didn't want that same child to have nothing. This child would have everything that neither Rochelle herself, nor Martin had ever posessed. Security. Wealth. Safety.

**O-Outlaw**

She looked at the wanted poster, and hid a smirk. They hadn't updated the Grey Fox's wanted poster; she was neither a Colovian, nor a male. She was, in act a Breton, and very much a woman. Still, it was fun to have the guards running hither and yon when they saw her in the mask. It wasn't like they could _catch_ her, after all.

**P-Pride**

It took a strong sense of will, and a knowledge of who she was, to keep the Shivering Isles from affecting her and driving her into the realm of true Madness. Well, less a knowledge of who she was, and more a knowledge of who she built herself into. A tough, no-nonsense, and yes, prideful woman. Who else could say they headed two guilds of a darker nature? Being both the Gray Fox a_nd_ the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood was nothing to sneeze at.

**Q-Quintessential**

She looked at the highly polished amber bow with a nod. It truely was the best bow she'd ever had the chance to handle, and that was saying something, given the nature of the ebony bow she had in her posession. Perfection was not key, but comfort, strength, and flexibility definitely made it the necessary part of her fighting inventory.

**R-Rochelle**

_ "I love you... Rochelle."_

She owned a house in every major city in Tamriel. It helped her to keep track of various things, like guild members and Brotherhood contracts. They were all very different styles, filled with all manner of things.

The most important feature though, was the one they all shared. A mirror. And with that mirror, she could look at herself.

She had cleaned up first; a hot bath helped her to at least relax a little before she went to study herself. Rochelle saw what she usually had; slightly tanned skin, black hair with an odd violet tint when the lght hit just so, a strong, slender body, deep blue eyes...

But it felt, oddly, like something more. Martin had given her the name, at the very least, even if he had not been able to give her the past. She hadn't changed phyically, but being given a name... a name that was her own...

That changed her. Just a little.

**S-Sheogorath**

The Madgod wasn't exactly what she'd expected. Oh sure, he was definitely dangerous; he was a Daedra Prince, for the gods' sake, but he also managed to exude an aura of harmless tomfoolery.

That just made her twice as wary. The last thing she needed to have happen was for him to actually go through with any one of his myriad threats. The one about plucking out eyes was most unnerving, though it was also the simplest.

**T-Thieves Guild**

With the curse off of Nocturnal's Cowl, the Guild now had an _obvious_ metting place, though it was only clear to the other members. The front of the house was all boarded up, and the only way in was through the back, and the walled garden meant that a Thieves Guild guard could easily deterr anyone who thought to get a look, or steal some special things owned by the guild.

She examined it impassively, taking note of the fact that it was a _real_ building, and not another hovel like was normal at the docks. It had probably been a warehouse at some point before being appropriated by the guild's predecesors.

Still, it would do. And there were places to sleep for the members who didn't have places to stay as of yet, of which there were several.

**U-Undermined**

"How can I get anything _done_, if you keep going behind my back to countermand what I'm saying?" she demanded of the elder council in frustration. "You all _agreed_ that, as I carry his progeny, I am the Empress. I didn't _want_ the job, but I accepted it because this child will deserve something more than what I have been. But I swear to the gods, if you lot do not _cease and desist_, I will find a new council!"

**V-Vague**

There was nothing vague about the moments that had defined her life since waking up. Taking up the emporer's amulet, then vanishing off to the darker side of life. Listener. Gray Fox. Mad God. Completing a pilgrimage to 'purify' herself so that she could pull together all the pieces of the Knights of the Nine had been... interesting.

And then teh Oblivion Crisis had been too obvious for her to ignore, and she had gone to find Martin like she'd said she would.

No, there was nothing vague about that... not to her, at least. To the chronicalers of her life, however, definitely. Like she was going to tell them anything.

**W-Wanted**

It was always amusing to see the new wanted posters for the Gray Fox. The _still_ hadn't gotten the details right. They had caught onto the fact that the new Fox was female, but they still assumed she was Colovian, and of average height and build.

It was almost amusimg. Annoying, but amusing.

**X-(e)Xtra**

She flipped the two rings about in her hands. One was magical, and magical rings were always nice. The other was just an ordinary gold and emerald ring, pretty but useless. Though to be fair, both of them were duplicates; she had rings similar to them both tucked away in pne of her dresser drawers.

On the one hand, extras were nice. On the other, they were also clutter. She liked fine thngs, but she preferred to keep her dockside house as free of clutter as possible.

**Y-Yielding**

She had only ever yielded to one person. Martin. Martin had made her feel, for a brief moment, like she could be just a woman. His Elder Council, though, she could not yield before them. If she did, they would attempt to walk all over her.

**Z-Zip**

It was a way out, a small line which she could slide down. She had waited a few months, arranged a wet nurse for the baby, and now stood at one of the lower windows, contemplating.

She could leave. Let the baby be raised by the council and grow up to be the next ruler. Or she could stay, rule herself, and raise the child with her own particular values. And the values of Martin.

Rochelle cast one last, longing look outwards, then sighed and went back upstairs.


	4. Oblivion: Reina

**A-Afraid**

In many ways, Reina had always been afraid. She hadn't understood why she was in prison, and that made her fearful; easy prey for Dreth in the cell opposite her. Bewilderment was not eased by the appearance of the Emperor in her cell, nor the Blades which followed him. If anything, his proclimation that she would be able to save the Empire left her feeling more confused and lost.

And she hadn't _meant_ to shoot that one Blade, Glennroy, at the end. She'd been aiming over his shoulder and he'd moved the wrong way just as she'd fired! It had been an accident!

**B-Beloved**

She hadn't expected to find anything in the Sanctuary; had, in fact, gone to say that she didn't belong in such a place; death was not her purpose, nor her cause. Death was defense, and a last choice if at all possible.

And yet, somehow-by talking over her timid protestations-she had been ushered in. Welcomed, even. And had met him. It had taken time, but he was dear to her as no one had ever been before.

**C-Choices**

It was no choice at all, really. She couldn't handle the contract. She couldn't! So instead, she left. Packed up her things and fled the Sanctuary, for a place ar to the south. A place she had only been to once, but she had done it for Teinaava.

**D-Darkness**

She wasn't very good at hiding in the shadows; she was much to pale for that. Her skin, and hair were as white as possible, and her eyes were the palest of blue's, almost gray in their colorlessness. Even around the Cheydinhall Sanctuary she preferred to wear clothes, not armor, as she knew there was no hope of her fitting in properly.

**E-Expectations**

It was hard, trying to live up to the expectations of her new 'family.' They expected her to be like them, and take pleasure in death; she didn't. They expected her to be amused by their stories; she wasn't. But she tried.

In the end, she withdrew into herself, harly talking to anyone to avoid the stories and anecdotes that all ended with someone's death. She couldn't _leave_, but she had little desire to stay.

**F-Force**

It was the first show o force that Reina had ever commited to, brandishing her weapon at the one she loved the most. If he was there to make her go back... to make her complete that contract...

She couldn't. She wouldn't kill him, but she wouldn't go back. If she had to, she'd find some way of killing _herself_, first.

**G-Grasping**

He gripped her wrist lightly, gently, and guided her dagger to his pebbled skin. Reina swallowed hard, and had to hold tight to herself so as to not pull away. For this to work, she had to get it done and over with.

It didn't mean she had to like it though. His other hand squeezed her free one reassuringly.

"I will see you soon," he breathed. "I know you will be victorious."

**H-Hold**

"I c-can't do it 'Naava!" she whimpred as the argonian cradled her gently. "I can't just k-kill everyone, even if that's what I've been told to do! It's b-bad enough whe I _don't_ know the p-people... You alll t-took me in, and even if I don't _fit_ in, y-you accept m-me..."

Her voice trailed off as misery overwhelmed her, and Teinaava shook his head in sympathy. She was not meant for this life, truly, but where else could she go that would take her in and care for her as the family had?

**I-Insecure**

She was never really sure of herself or her skills. In fact, the only thing she _was_ confident about was her ability to brew potions, set limbs, and be a healer. It was clear that she ought to have been setting up her own shop in the poor districts of the various townships and being a healer, an alchemist, a caretaker... not a killer.

**J-Joined**

There was no way out of the Brotherhood, not after completing the task set to her by Lucien. All she'd wanted was a place to belong, but... but killing that old man, Rufio... it had felt wrong. He'd done nothing to justify it, that she knew of, and she had just...

It haunted her; every death did. She was not strong, or brave, or cruel. She was alone. And she could not reach out to the 'family' for they would not understand. For them, killing and serving Sithis and the Night Mother... that was the way of their world.

And Reina was too afraid of dying to leave it.

**K-Kill**

Her first kill was a pure accident. Glennroy had gone left as she'd shot, and the arrow had burried itself up to the fletching in his back. It had been the final blow to an aready battered body, and he'd dropped. She hadn't known it would lead to a meeting with Lucien LaChance, a Speaker for the Brotherhood.

Or another kill.

She had dithered about it for almost two weeks, sometimes agreeing to it, other times rejecting it. In the end, it was the promise of a place to belong, a... a family to look after her that made her finally look for the Bad Omen inn.

**L-Languorwine**

There was a way to save everyone, so long as LaChance didn't look too closely at the bodies. It had taken Teinaava to point it out, and Vicente to get enough of the Languorwine and its antidote together, but at long last, she was ready to put the plan into action.

She just had to hope that the family would forgive her, eventually.

**M-Mistake**

It had been a careless mistake, and she had paid for it. Mountain lions had been in the caves, and she had stepped on one's tail. She was no longer certain she'd be able to finish the missions LaChance sent her, not with the blood she'd lost, and the fever ravaging her body.

**N-Night Mother**

She couldn't believe that the Night Mother's tomb was right under the statue of the Lucky Old Lady in Bravil. Who would have _known_, without being told? Certainly not her!

Even knowing who the traitor was, she was reluctant to go into the tomb. To face whatever was down there... but on the other hand, what choice did she have? LaChance had not deserved the death he'd been given, and though revenge was not her forte, he deserved a little of it.

**O-Often**

She hadn't been to this spot often. This was, in fact, only the third time. But she had set the stipulation that her Silencer would know where she was, so here she would wait for him.

Here, she would wait for her Teinaava.

**P-Plaintive**

She just looked at him with worried hope. She knew he had his orders, but maybe she could have but a fewminutes to tell him the truth. She had done much for him, after all, and they had become good friends despite the diference in temepraments.

And so far, he seemed to be unthreatening towards her. He was simply waiting for her to find the right words to speak.

**Q-Quiet**

If it were possible, she'd say that her looks were like a shout in a quiet room, gathering attention when she wanted none. She always had preferred to keep her head down, in part due to fear, in part just wishing to keep to herself. It took Teinaava several attempts, to converse about books before she would speak more than a soft greeting when he moved close to her.

**R-Run**

Silently, her feet flew over the moss and grass as she ran through the woods. It was harder to leave a trail on the main roads, true, but it was also easier to be tracked. More people were on those roads, and the more people who saw her, the less likely it was that her plan of seclusion would work.

Because she couldn't fulfill that contract. She just... couldn't.

**S-Secret**

If not for Teinaava's request about Scar-Tail, she never would have had a place to hide that was secret from everyone. Unfortunately, it was not prrof against the rains that fell, and so she was considering moving to a nearby fort, that she had cleared of bandits.

It would be just as secret, and possibly twice as safe.

**T-Teinaava**

She had been cautious about him at first; the Dark Brotherhood was full of people who murdered for money and thought it fun, after all. But he had thoughtfully stayed away from the topic unless she asked direct questions along those lines, and she slowly found herself warming to him.

Mostly, they spoke about books, comparing and contrasting. Between the two of them, the Sanctuary had a sizable library, with a great variety to choose from. They both agreed that there was something calming about cracking open a tome that was a well-loved story and reading familiar words with pleasure.

She most certainly had never expected to fall in love with him. An argonian, of all things... Physucally, they were compatible, as most of the races in Cyrodill were. There would just be no chance of progeny, if they ever got around to doing that. Not that she would ever initiate such a thing. Not without first knowing how he felt.

**U-Unexpected**

His hand touched her cheek, stroking gently. She stared at him in surprise; he was giving her the argonian version of a kiss! Slowly, hesitantly, she reached up to run her fingers over his pebbled skin. Reina squeaked a little when her pulled her closer, tucking her head under his chin in reflex as he held her tight.

**V-Vitality**

Life always had a way of surprising a person. Despite the length of time the Languorwine had spent in their systems, the members of the Cheydinhall sanctuary woke as though they had only been napping for a few hours. Sure they were stiff, and they were _definitely_ upset-all but the two co-conspiritors-but they were more than ready to pick up their duties to the Night Mother and the Brotherhood.

**W-Withdrawn**

Even though she was now the Listener, Reina still kept to herself. Orders were passed through Teinaava and Arquen, to the other Sanctuaries and the other members. She didn't _like_ the job, but at least now she was no longer the one going out to do all the killing. That... sort of helped. Teinaava helped too, and that was more a boon than anything else.

**X-(e)xaminate**

She had to hope that the Languorwine 'deaths' would hold out against Lucien's inspections. He _seemed_ pleased when she reported back, though, and she let out an inward sigh of pure relief, even as she qualied at the thought of being made his Silencer. She didn't want to kill anymore... She just wanted it all to end.

**Y-Yet**

She never thought there was anything weird about her orders until LaChance himself came to try and kill her. She hadn't been acting in fear when he'd confronted her, she truly hadn't understood why, and he had stayed his hand for the moment.

It was nerve-wracking though, waiting for the other shoe to fall. Every time she woke it was amoment of 'I'm not dead yet' that sent a thrill of adrenaline through her system. Yet. That was the key word in the morning thought.

This had to end.

**Z-Zombies**

She _hated _zombies, and the fact that she didn't actually have to _fight_ the necromancer so much as steal his hourglass made her feel a little better. But she still had to get past his skeletons and zombies, and that was, as always, easier said than done. Zombies were just so _hard_ to get rid of...


	5. Mass Effect 1: Nova

**A-Ashley**

She liked the Gunnery Chief, as much as she could like someone. Ash had a sense of humor that was a little rough, a little sharp, but decently entertaining. And she wielded a mean assault rifle.

Now if she could just lose the bright pink and white armor...

**B-Batarians**

Nova disliked batarians on principle. They shared many traits with humanity except one that was rather vital. The ability to share. Humans might have been the bully race, but they had never treated batarians like cattle, never taken batarians as slave, and most _certainly_ hasd never raided batarian planets. Torfan was retaliation for Mindoir and Elysium. And well justified retaliation at that.

**C-Captain Anderson**

Nova had an instinctive trust for her superiors, but this was magnified in Anderson. She couldn't have said exactly why, but he was a good captain, a good leader. It felt as though she'd swiped the ship out from under him, and while she was okay with command, she was _not_ okay with that.

Politics. Ugh.

**D-Destiney Ascension**

It was a huge ship, and she watched it glide serenely past the Normandy with wary eyes. As the Chief had put it, that gun could rip through the main barriers of any Fleet ship. Not a comforting proposition, allies or not.

**E-Eden Prime**

Eden Prime was where things got... nasty. Nihilus dead. The beacon destroyed after implanting... _something_ in her head. A vision, a nightmare, a dream. She didn't know what it was. Nor did she like it. It was turning her calm and controlled world on its ear.

**F-Father**

She never knew who her old man had been. He'd died in a fight with batarian raiders before she had been old enough to really know him. It felt odd to look at a picture of the man and know who he was, but feel no attachment to him.

**G-Garrus**

She trusted her instincts, and while she was not entirely xenophobic, she wasn't fond of turians in general. But Garrus was... different from Saren. He was idealistic and naive, maybe, but not stupid. And a good shot, if a reckless one.

**H-Hackett**

It never failed to make her come to attention when Hackett sent her a message. He was even more of her superior than Anderson, what with being an admiral and all. And she admired the old man. He was tough as nails and twice as smart; though she wasn't happy with all the deviations from her mission to hunt Saren, she _was_ still technically Alliance. And if the Alliance needed her, she would do the job.

**I-Information**

"Look, just tell me where Garrus is before I have to hurt you," Nova sighed impatiently.

"You're no fun at all, are you, princess?" Harkin leered a little.

Nova's eyes narrowed. She didn't appreciate a nickname that made her sound like she did nothing, and she was _very_ tempted to pull out her gun and shoot this former C-Sec offcer in the foot.

"Answer. The question."

**J-Joker**

Nova mulled over the pilot as she flopped backwards onto her bed. She'd done some reading up on Vrolicks Syndrome, and found herself somewhat impressed. She may not have always liked his sarcasm, but when it came down to it, Joker _was_ the best pilot in the fleet. She could put up with a little pride. Especially when she had a feeling it was covering for... something else.

**K-Kaidan**

She couldn't say what drew her. Initially, she thought of him as an old fashioned sort of Boy Scout, but as they spoke more, he started to seem less and less of a boy scout and more... someone who had lived through things he shouldn't have needed to. She wasn't the type to try and fix anyone-the gods knew she had her own share of scars and less than admirable moments-but she was still drawn to him.

**L-Liara**

It wasn't like Nova disliked the asari on principle. Hell, she barely talked with her, and didn't know her well enough to like her or not. No, what she disliked was the mind-meld Liara had insisted upon. It hadn't been so bad when Shiala had done it, but that could have been because the now-dead asari had more years and more parctice than Nova's newest team member.

Either way, mind-melds with Liara left Nova with a migraine of epic proportions that had necessitated her actively requiring help to make it down to the med bay.

**M-Major Kyle**

Nova hadn't liked Major Kyle much, CO or not, but she had followed his orders. To find out that he'd suffered PTSD after the things _she_ had one made her feel a little bit guilty. But to find him holed up with biotic extremists, here, on this remote moon...

This was _not_ the way to deal with problems. She hadn't come out of there whole either, but she hadn't broken. Maybe it was arrogant to judge him by her own sucesses, but how else _could_ she judge him?

**N-Noveria**

In a way, she liked the frozen planet. It conformed to rules and 'laws' she could handle. 'Do what needs to be done,' and 'don't rock the boat unless absolutely necessary' were both themes she accepted, even if she didn't follow the second.

It also helped that she liked snow. She wasn't a big fan of the _cold_, but when she started watching the whirling snow outside the large windows, Kaidan had to nudge her shoulder to remind her that they were there on a mission.

**O-Operative**

She didn't like the fame, the fact that people everywhere suddenly knew her name. She had settled into her command, and didn't mind military people looking up to her or her achievements, but ranom strangers on the streets of the Citadel, or sudden mail from unknown people... that bothered her. She preferred to stick to her shadows,inasmuch as she could, and remain anonymous.

**P-People**

Nova was not a big fan of people, and she'd said as much to Kaida when he'd asked. People tended to be nosy when she wanted privacy, and pushy when she wanted to be left alone. It was her mother's atittude, really, to push and push and push, and while Nova could accept it from her-blood was blood-when it came from strangers, flagging her down to ask for one thing or another... No. Nova kept to herself, and that was that.

**Q-Quarian**

Tali was like a breath of fresh air. A little naive, a little too sweet at points, but... also drawing. A little dangerous, and quite capable. Slowly, Nova started to see her as sortof a surrogate little sister. It was a decidedly new experience; she'd never had siblings older or younger. Military life didn't exactly constitute a lot of children without someone retiring or taking a permanent posting.

**R-Rachni**

She studied the rachni queen through narrowed silver eyes. She was fighting a pretty rough battle inside, destroy against protect. She closed her eyes, and centered herself, slowly letting the answer rise to the surface.

"No... I won't be responsible for the genocide of an entire species. You go free."

**S-Saren**

What hit Nova was the understanding. The sensation that they were very similar in the ways that matterd. If a thousand civilians died to save a million more, that was acceptable. But Saren was taking it to an extreme. Tens of trillions of people dying for... nothing? No, that was where the differences were stark and obvious.

She actually felt a little sorry for the turian. The bastard was clearly indoctrinated, ad just as clearly, he couldn't see it.

**T-Torfan**

She sat at the table, nursing a cup of juice as she cast her mind backwards to the squad she'd had to lose on Torfan. She remembered the cramped, dark tunnels, the bright bursts of gunfire, the shouts and cries of the wounded, the helpless... the smell of blood, batarian and human.

She remembered the destruction of that base, not with fondness, or with guilt. But with a soft determination. She had done what she'd needed to do to end the threat, albeit temporarily. Did she regret doing it? Sometimes. But her soldies had all gone in _knowing_ that it was going to be a hard fight. They accepted the risk. They died for what they believed in.

Guilt and regret would only tarnish their sacrifices. She lived, and carried those memories; she used those memories as a guide. Do what must be done. Acknowledge the pain later. Grow beyond the pain. Keep walking on, stronger than before.

**U-Udina**

He'd sold her out. Shock was almost an entirely new feeling to her. It was _not _'just politics,' and Saren's revolts had _not_ hinged on secrecy. Her hands clenched tightly, and if she hadn't forced herself to walk away, she would have shot all four politicians. In the forehead, preferably.

But mostly _Udina_. He would get what was coming to him too. She would be damn sure of that. It might not be immediate, it might not even be within the next few months, but eventually she would explain her high level of dissatisfaction to him, in a very _very_ painful manner.

**V-Volus**

They were itriguing little people. Almost like the quarians, except less... fascinating. They wore exo-suits with the necessary atmo for them to breath, and pressure as well. The volus ambassador was full of information... if one could get him to stop being a surly little ball of anger for longer than a few minutes.

It had taken time that Nova hadn't, admittedly, had, but she had been rewarded for her efforts.

**W-Wrex**

She saw him first at Chora's Den. Something about him was different; she couldn't say what, but it had made her stop and watch the mild altercation. She had noticed the scars then, and had mentally raised a brow. Krogan were notorious fighters, and for something to get him and leave a permanent scar meant it had to be pretty badass.

Recruiting him in C-Sec was something else entirely. She hadn't ever been very fond of the races other than her own, but the krogan was a powerhouse she couldn't ignore. Putting him at her back... it felt damn good.

**X-X 57**

The asteroid hadn't been impressie. If anythng, the most annoying part had dealt with the live blasting caps. She'd been muttering curses about engineers after that one.

But here, given the choice between letting a murderer go to save a handful of lives, or taking him in to save millions more? There was no choice, not really. She had no room for regret in her at that moment, and after... well, it was a sacrifice in the name of greater good.

Bt a tiny part of her wonderd if that was how Saren had gotten started.

**Y-Yell**

She hadn't meant to yell, or... well, as close to yelling as she ever got. But she was just so... _upset_ at the Council, and Kaidan had been right there. Nova knew that he had just been trying to help; unfortunately for him, that had made him a target. And so she took out her ire on him, and had the somewhat diffuse satisfaction of seeing him start, and even take a step back.

She would apologize later. Maybe. If she got herself some vindication befrehand.

**Z-Zoom**

Ship models had always been a hobby of Nova's, from the time she was a little girl. Of course, as a small child, she'd preferred to fly them around making ship noises. Standing on her own ship, feeling it's near-silent hum, she felt the difference. For a moment, she wanted a model ship to call her own, just so she could zip around after duty and make the ld 'zoom-zoom' noises from childhood.

But only for a moment. The moment passed, and she straightened her BDUs slightly. She had a job to do. It was time to get to it.


	6. Mass Effect 2: Nova

**A-Anderson**

It was good to see the admiral again, though the handshake was all the informality Nova could allow herself to have. Still, it gave her the chance to study her former CO, her old friend. He _looked_ older, and not particularly happy. This worried her.

**B-Biotic**

Jac, she decided, was crazy. But she was also powerful. And in some ways, very much the abused child, lashing out at everyone and everything. Nova doubted she would ever actually like or trust the power-happy biotic, but she would definitely be useful to have.

She just needed to find Jack a damn _shirt_ first.

**C-Cerberus Cheerleader**

Nova didn't like Miranda. And the dislike seemed to be mutual. They were coolly civil, and very profesional in public, but Miranda rarely left her office, and Nova barely went in unless she had no other choice.

Jack's nicname for Miranda had stuck though, and when Nova was feeling particularly bitter, she would refer to the older, brunette woman, as the Cerberus cheerleader.

**D-Drell**

She didn't know what to think of Thane initially. A man who so casually admitted he was dying? It had been harder than anticipated to curb the comment that had wanted to come out, which she had related in her personal logs. It had amused her at the time, in a sharply bitter way.

But then, since being refused her Spectre status, and denied the Alliance, it was hard not to be bitter. Harder still to walk on her own two feet with all these strangers at her side.

Thane was interesting. That perfect memory was both lible to be a handicap as well as a useful tool. And for a dying man, he was... interesting.

**E-Elnora**

It hadn't been hard to decide to shoot the asari. She had picked the wrong side, and no matter he excuses, it was likely that she had done so willingly. That was the problem with mercs... sometimes it was just for the money... sometimes, it was for the thril. And sometimes, it was for both.

Either way, Elnora would be no one's problem any longer.

**F-Flotilla**

Standing in the cockpit with Tali, Nova had to admire the size of the quarian fleet. They, of course, had lost no ships to Sovereign in the who Citadel conflict, so they were the largest fleet in any system at the moment. She didn't know if they were the _best_ fleet, given that more than half the ships were probably for living, not for fighting, but sometimes size was enough to matter to a potential threat.

**G-Garrus**

It had brought a smile to her face to see her old friend on his feet again. Haing someone to trust, to rely on, took weight from her shoulders, brought a little more balance to her spine. She could appreciate his desire for revenge, though she disliked it. Revenge solved very little in her eyes, and many times tended towards only making more enemies.

Still, it was his choice. And since he had yet to find this Sidonis, she would give him the benefit of the doubt and let Garrus go about his business.

But _damn_ was it good to have a friendly face on board again.

**H-Horizon**

It had been a pretty colony, she suspected. At least until the Collectors had gotten their hands on it, and most of the humans in it. And of all people, she had been most grateful to see that Kaidan had escaped unscathed. It hurt, a little, that to know how close they had become all he did was offer her a handshake... but any kind of contact was needed.

She needed to remind herself that she wasn't Alliance at the moment, but _oh_, how it hurt. Letting go of his hand and taking that step back hurt even more.

**I-Illusive Man**

She mistrusted him on sight. His eyes, clearly some sort of occular implat, gave her the creeps. The way he spoke, like she was beneath him only because she knew less than he did, bothered her. The fact that he was formerly Alliance, and now a rogue opperation... yes, that was telling too. She remembered what Cerberus had done with Admiral Kahoku. She wasn't about to trust this... Illusive Man.

**J-Jacob**

"Taylor, did you ever regret leaving the corsairs?"

"Well, sometimes I have... but I told you, Commander, there was enough red tape in any of their opperations to sink a cruiser."

"Sometimes red tape has a function."

"That's true, ma'am, but it gets frustrating to deal with, when all you're trying to do is help someone. Didn't you ever get tired of it?"

"Helping people?"

He snorted into his drink, and Nova raised a wry eyebrow.

"I'm Alliance bred," she continued "My parents serve, I serve... served. Red tape or no red tape, if I could be back in the Alliance right now, doing the right kind of work, I'd be happy with life."

**K-Kasumi**

"A red rose? Never figured you for a sentimentalist, Goto."

"Oh, that..." Kasumi seemed almost embarrased, but she chuckled lightly. "It used to be my calling card, until Keiji talked me out of it. It was really more about showmanship and getting attention than anything else."

"Probably a good thing you stopped then," Nova pointed out with a touch of dry humor to her voice. "The best thief in the business wouldn't be the best if she got caught because of a simple flower, no matter how nice."

The 'best thief in the business' flapped a hand at the woman who was becoming her friend.

**L-Legion**

"Why _my_ armor?" Nova asked.

The pause was significant.

"No data available."

The human sighed in exasperation. For a geth, this thing was remarkably uninformative. Then again, it was the first time she'd met a geth who'd managed to talk to her before she killed it.

"You are a frustrating machine," she finally said.

"We are geth."

"...I know."

**M-Morinth**

Nova worked hard to step on her initial dislike of asari, but she still leaned slightly away from Morinth. All of Samara's warnings echoed through her head as she tried to play interested in the justicar's daughter, and it was damn difficult to concentrate on the conversation with the music thudding in her ears.

It didn't help that Morinth had clearly turned on the charm and intended to get the red-haired woman to do as _she_ pleased, instead of what Nova wanted.

**N-Nef**

She was as polite as possible when it came to searching the rooms of the deceased woman. She touched very little, choosing only to read a few scattered notes, and listen to the holo journal the girl had been keeping.

She felt a sort ofabstract sympathy for Nef's mother, and wondered, quietly and privately, if her own had been in such pain when she'd heard of her daugther's death. That one email over a barely-secure channel-that Nova _knew_ Miranda could tap if she was so inclined-was hardly enough.

**O-Okeer**

There was something... sideways about the large krogan and his giant tank. But she needed him on her team. Hell, were she to admit to it, she missed havving a krogan powerhouse on her side. Okeer was definitely not Wrex, but he would do in a pinch... providing she got him and that prototype krogan out in one piece.

**P-Professor Solus**

"Wait, I know the rest of that was important, but you got me stuck on the performing bit. _You_ sang Gilbert and Sulivan?"

"I am the very model of a scientist salarian~"

Despite herself, Nova started to smile. Then to grin. Mordin clearly liked it, and she had to admit, he didn't have a half-bad voice. Maybe she ought to look up salarian music on the extranet when the conversation was over. For the moment...

**Q-Queen**

"You could go pirate. Live like a queen."

"And be declared a traitor not only to he Alliance, but to the Council? No."

**R-Reaper**

She ducked down behind cover as the Reaper-controlled collector flung blasts of energy at her, and tried to keep her feet when one detonated hard enough to almost stagger her.

"I swear," she snarled slightly, ejecting the heat sink, "I am going to enjoy watching this thing burn."

**S-Samara**

Samara was probably the first asari tha Nova almost liked on sight. She was methodical, hell, even brutal, but her priority was one Nova could understand. The mission _always_ came first. If you were in the way, you were either collateral damage, or you were an enemy. It was that simple.

**T-Tali**

"I'm... sorry, Tali," Nova glanced down and slightly left. "Kal'Reegar distracted teh Collosus for us and... he didn't make it."

"What?"

The quarian woman emoted shock, and Nova winced. She'd needed Reegar to keep the worst of the geth off her back, and to draw the attention of the damn armature. It hadn't been a choice made lightly, and it _had_ paid off in the end. But now, Tali had lost her whole squad, and it hadn't even been her fault.

**U-Urz**

Tuchanka was interesting, but the most... entertaining moment came when Nova walked by a varren. It promptly fell into step at the rear of the group, and simply would not _leave_ until she stopped to get it a few pats on the head.

"Hah!" The nearby krogan snotred in amusement. "Looks like Urz has found someone new to follow! Good luck makin him stay."

She didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused. Grunt thought it was hilarious, and wanted to bring the Varren onto this ship as a pet.

**V-Verner**

"Look, Verner, I'm flattered you want to help, but... go home. Just go home. Okay?"

The young man seemed affronted by Nova's weary comment.

"Oh, so only you can do it right, is that it? Just you and nobody else?"

"...yes," she said flatly. "You're not even military _trained_ Verner! Replica armor and a cheap gun aren't going to make you a soldier! It won't even make you a merc. Get lost."

**W-Want**

Nova rarely focused on what she wanted. It was easier to focus on what was necessary, what was needed, what was... valuable. She occasionally let herself miss Kaidan. Miss the old Normandy. Miss her place in the Alliance. But she never allowed herself to want them so badly that other aspects in her life suffered.

At least... she thought she didn't.

**X-(e)Xtraction**

"Joker, send in the shuttle. I'm done with this colony."

She was angry. Hurt. And wanted nothing more than to leave.

**Y-Years**

She sat, quietly, at the edge of her bed, and ran the truth through her mind. It had been two years. Two years of darkness. No memories permeated her thoughts. To everyone _else_ it had been two years. To her... barely a few hours. Barely a few days. It didn't feel _long_ enough to her.

What she had missed, what she had lost, it all crossed her mind. Where were her people, the aliens and humans she had considered her friends...? Were they all still alive, had they moved on to new people, places, friends... loves?

**Z-Zaeed**

The merc, she liked. They were very much alike, and were willing to do anything to get the job finished. She hadn't much liked to let the refinery burn, but what other choice had she? Maybe without their leadership, the Suns would fall apart. Or at least into some disarray. It would be good, and give her a decent reprieve before she had to go back to rooting them out.


	7. Mass Effect 3: Nova

**AN:** Spoilers for ME3. You have been warned.

**A-Anderson**

It was _damn_ good to see that Anderson was still alive. She hadn't liked leaving him to himself on Earth, hell, she hadn't liked leaving Earth at all! And this honestly wasn't much better... but at least she could talk with him, get news on how the resistance was going.

But damned if she didn't want to actually _be_ there.

**B-Bakara**

The krogan female and Nova had hit it off immediately, and she was very much in awe of the shaman. It had to be difficult to live with the genophage, especially after Maelon's interference. But it hadn't dimished the strong will to live, to fight back... to survive past the genophage, and into the cure that Nova had spread all over Tuchanka.

To earn the friendship of such a woman... of such a krogan. That really was something else.

**C-Crucible**

I didn't matter that they didn't really know what the Crucible was. Or what it did. Or even how it worked. All that mattered was that the odd construct could defeat the Reapers. Maybe even destroy them. After almost four years, this was exactly what Nova wanted.

**D-David Archer**

She had to smile a little at the young man. He had come quite a long way since her rescue of him from his brother. He suited Grissom Academy... or it suited him. Either way, Cerberus couldn't touch him any longer.

**E-Earth**

She stared straight ahead, her eyes narrowed, as they exited the relay, the ships of every race she had called together following behind. Earth looked bad, but it was still intact... mostly. And now, they were going to bring it all home.

**F-Fight**

The Brute was something new, and she had to admit that it was almost frightening. But once the attack pattern was learned, it was just as easy to defeat as any other.

In theory, anyways. She winced and rubbed at her shoulder, rotating it as she scowled down at the body of the Brute. Damn thing had almost dislocated it, and if not for the fact that she had hit the _wall_, there would have been no almost about it.

**G-Garrus**

She needed the friendship he offered, and the understanding. As much as she didn't like admitting to it, it was good to have someone who had never lost faith in her, had never doubted her for a moment. Maybe they had parted ways a few times, but in the end, he had always been at her side.

**H-Hope**

It was a tenuous little thing, hope. One had to cultivate it, cherish it, and sometimes, hold onto it so tightly that it blocked everything out. Nova held onto hope now, praying with everything in her to the nameless gods, if they even existed, that she would pull through it all. She just... needed to get through it all.

**I-Illusive Man**

Shooting him was, perhaps, the most catharic moment she'd had in her life. Other than Kai Leng, of course. This felt better though. The fool, lost in his delusions, had overreached what he could, conceivably do, and had become in doctrinated, as she'd known he would be.

In a way, he reminded her of Saren. Only, Saren was more pitible.

**J-Javik**

A real, live, Prothean... It made Nova's head spin. And ache. While his... reading of her physiology, or whatever, hadn't produced the migraine that melding with Liara had, it still left her feeling fiercely unbalanced. He was, she decided, lucky that she hadm't shot him.

**K-Kaidan**

Nova had long believed that she was a hard person to affect. Yes, she had grown close to Alenko while on the first Normandy, but she hadn't been upset when he'd turned on her two years later with Horizon.

Now though, seeing him on life support, in a coma, in the hospital... She felt something inside her crack, sharply. It made her soften the rough words she'd meant to use, turned her voice coaxing, pleading, instead of ordering and demanding.

She wanted to touch him... but she didn't dare.

**L-Liara**

She wasn't surprised to hear that Liara had set up shop in what had once been Miranda's space. It was, outsideof the loft, and the med-bay, the largest area of the ship. She wasn't sure how _effective_ the Shadow Broker would be with how little equipment she had, but, well...

Inasmuch as she was able to, Nova regarded the asari as a friend. And it was good to have friends aboard.

**M-Mother**

Nova hadn't expected a call from her mother over the QEC. Especially not back in the war room, where priority calls were made. But... well, she had to admit, that it would be good to see the newly appointed Rear Admiral.

At least, that was the idea. She had forgotten that her temper, hard buried though it was, had come from her mother. She winced under the tirad laid into her by the older woman about never calling, never writing, and never _talking_.

Despite it, Nova noticed that Hannah was smiling. Slowly, she answered to that smile with one of her own. It was damn good to hear her mother's voice.

**N-Normandy**

"You didn't hear me say it," she confided to Joker and EDI, "but I almost miss the light of the Cerberus version. I could actually _see_ what I was doing. Now I keep thinking I'll trip over an unsecured power cable."

Joker snorted.

"You could always use a drone to move them out of your way," he offered with a smirk.

**O-Outside**

The air felt weird on Palavan's moon. It made her think that she ought to have worn her breather helmet, just in case some mass effect generators went out. The last thing any of them needed was explosive decompression.

**P-Padok Wiks**

He was, she decided, an odd salarian. Not that she had much experience with salarians outside the dallatrass councilor, and Mordin Solus. He seemed dedicated, though, and Eve hadn't had reason to complain, as far as she knew. So Nova tended to leave Wiks to his own devices.

**Q-Quarians**

"Tali, no offense, but couldn't your people have picked a _better_ time to stating fighting a war?" Nova demanded, rubbing her temples in irritation. "I understand wanting a place where your non-coms will be safe, but really? Now, of all times?"

She wasn't certain, but she thought the youngest admiral seemed a little sheepish.

**R-Reapers**

"There's a REAPER in my way Wrex!" Nova bellowed.

**S-Synthetics**

As far as it was possible, Legion was one of her closer friends. The geth on whole were... interesting, now that she knew more about them. And with the geth being willing to not only share Rannoch, but help rebuild the planet with the quarians? It meant that she was getting quite a bit of help, not just with the Crucible, but with the war effort all around.

**T-Thessia**

It was a little annoying to finally get to see Thessia... and all one could see was rubble. She felt a small bit of empathy for Liara, but then, Nova had grown up in ships, not on planets. Hell, boot was the first time she'd made a serious touchdown on solid soil.

It didn't help that the rubble meant she needed to work on alternate routs to get to this temple... thing.

**U-Urdnot**

Wrex she was fond of. Wreav, not so much. So she was glad that it was Wrex who was in charge of the whole run to the Shroud. Honestly, she wanted to put a shotgun to Wreav... but Eve did that all on her own, shouting them both into submission.

Nova had to use a hand to hide her grin and muffle her snickers.

**V-Victus**

"Primarch... about your son..."

Victus shook his head.

"He did what was necessary, and went out doing his squad, and people proud," the turian leader replired. "...I would rather not speak of it now."

Nova nodded, and respectfully backed off.

**W-Wrex**

As the genophage cure rained down, Nova saw Wrex and Eve step out of the tanks, holding out their hands slightly. It reminded her of the first time she'd seen snow. She'd done the very same thing, holding out her hands in aw and wonder. This, however, seemed so much... better. Much more poetic.

**X-(e)Xtra**

Strange as it seemed, she did have some extra time to spare. Since she'd bought some ship models of her own, to put in her cabin, that was what she decided she would do. It would keep her distracted, and keep her from fretting too much about what she couldn't control.

**Y-Yes**

The kiss to her palm, produced shivers that trailed up and down Nova's spine. She wasn't too sure what had prompted her to say yes to Kaidan, to... accept him as more than a soldier formerly under her command, but if it could produce feelings like that? Oh, she was more than willing to go with it.

**Z-Zen**

It was so... quiet. At long last, everything was quiet. The view from where she was sitting was incredible, and the pain had faded, somehow. Or maybe she was just in so much pain that she couldn't feel much of anything any more.

In the end, what did it matter? If this was dying, then maybe it was time to do just that. She had done good work.


	8. Oblivion: Auriel

**A-Akatosh**

She was not precisely a devout follower-or believer-in the gods, for all she was granted the name of one. That was because of her coloration, which her mother had believed to be that of ancient dragon's flame.

So she had always felt some small connection to the god of the sun, the lord of the Dragons. Perhaps that also helped to explain why her favorite magic spells all involved fire in some form or fashion.

**B-Blades**

She didn't think much of the Blades, honestly. They were a bit of a ragtag group. A well _trained_ ragtag group, but a ragtag group nonetheless. There was barely fifty of them all told, and many of them were on the elderly side.

**C-Contracts**

She waited patiently in the darkness for one of the Black Hand to appear, having done the proper ritual. It had been a good while since she'd set foot in Cyrodiil, enough time for word of mouth on her to fade into memory, if not history, and now she had something to offer them.

A contract, for the death of someone of high import. She was a good little spy, not an assassin, so she was more than willing to leave the killing to the Brotherhood.

**D-Dark Brotherhood**

She'd found their Sanctuary by accident in Cheydinhall, using the old house as a sanctuary-pun unintend-from the storm that had been pouring down. The power she had felt under the house had led her to explore, and even though she couldn't get in, it was no real loss. She didn't want to join the Brotherhood. She'd just wanted to see what was there.

**E-Emporer**

It was a surprise, and not precisely a friendly one, to see the Emporer making an escape through her cell. It was even less comfortable when he recognized her from his dreams, and spoke of things she cared little about. Him not knowing why she was locked up, but saying that she was placed there by the gods? That just annoyed her.

**F-Fight**

She hadn't intended to get involved in the brawl. She'd wanted a quiet drink, in a place where she could blend into the wall with her hoodded cloak. But then someone had thrown a punch, and spilled her wine. She had kicked them off her table. And it had just gotten worse from there.

**G-Gemstones**

She rolled the fine stones through her fingers meditatively. Thanks to them, she had a fairly full pouch of gold, and a decently stocked, if small, house on the port. And more than a few left over. After a minute she shrugged, and pulled over a bowl, dropping the gleaming stones in. There were no windows in this small house, and a fairly obvious ward on the door that would turn anyone to ash if they tried to open it.

**H-Help**

She cocked her head slightly, watching with blue-green eyes as the Blade dropped. Sure, she could have helped, this did let her out, after all, but it wasn't her fight. Besides, her head was still ringing, and she wasn't too sure she could control her magicka. It wouldn't go too well if she was the one who killed the Emporer.

**I-Isles of Madness**

It was pretty indeed, in the Isles. She had managed to talk one of her acquaintences, a guard name Garrus from Cheydinhal into accompanying her, and though he seemed uneasy, and wary, on the whole it wasn't too bad.

The sky was her favorite part; with so many twisting colors. And since she had no intention of being the Madgod's champion-she could sense that there was something not particularly on the level about his desire, Garrus made a good fallback.

It helped the he was rather stupidly in love with her. She liked him well enough, but not so much that she wanted to follow up on his less-than-subtle hints. Him being the Madgod's champion though? This she could be infinately amused by.

**J-Jump**

She glanced over her shoulder at the steep mountainside, then back at the charging Nord. After a moment she mentally shrugged, then braced herself. At the last second she jumped to the side, and with a howl of rage the bandit took the plunge.

She watched him fall, tilting her head curiously as she counted the bounces. Then she shrugged and went back to making her leisurely way down the mountain. It wasn't like she'd deliberately provoked that one after all.

**K-Kvatch**

Her eyebrows rose almost to her hairline as she saw the heavy amount of damage Kvatch had taken from the Daedra. If they were able to rebuild there, it would be a long and arduous task, one that she envied them not in the least.

And the one remaining gate continued to spew Daedra from Oblivion. This, she could do something about. And _would._ Flames came pouring into the space, as she darted between cover.

**L-Lucien Lachance**

Finding his hiding place had been an accident, really. She liked old ruins, and raiding them for fun and money. She never expected to find a member of the Black Hand there.

**M-Martin Septin**

For an Imperial, he wasn't so bad. There was an undefinable quality to him that caught her attention, a sort of subtle charisma. It was amusingly ironic that he was a priest as well as Uriel's heir.

Unfortunately for him, she had little interest in anyone. Helping him, certainly, but beyond that, nothing.

**N-Noctournal's Cowl**

It was called the Hood of the Gray Fox, but Auriel knew its truth. The Cowl of Noctournal was a highly magical item that had once belonged to the Daedric Prince. She had only tentative contact with Noctournal, having rescued her Eye from the depths of the waters in the southernmost end of Cyrodiil, and had gotten the skelleton key as a reward. In truth, tentative contact was all she wanted. Direct interfeance by a Daedric Prince was... chancy, at best.

**O-Oblivion realms**

They had their own sort of beauty, really. Not a place she wanted to live, or one she'd ever _like_, but there was a sort of delicate beauty in the stark harshness.

She shook her head a little, and made for the tower she could see in the distance. She had to close the Gate before any major damage was done.

**P-Pity**

She felt synmpathy for the people of Kvatch. Their homes had been destroyed, their city and livlihoods all gone now. She was an adventurer, and explorer, by choice. They would have to either rebuild from scratch, move on to other towns, or turn to adventuring themselves to make their livings.

**Q-Quest**

She was not a big fan of dungeon delving, but putting together clues to find things, to go looking for items, that was decidedly more fun. She could stand a few dungeons if it meant a larger reward at the end.

The Knights of the Nine armor, for example, was well worth the effort, even if she would never wear it. They deserved the relic, the symbol of what they were, what they could be.

**R-Razor**

She grimaced at the idea of eating the heart of the Daedra sleeping in his coffin, and went to try breaking the dagger out manually. Mehrune's Razor was worth the effort, definately, but she wasn't going to go so far as _that_.

**S-Septim**

She rolled the coin idly between her fingers, then flipped it. She was bored, and in need of something to do. The Oblivion Crisis had been ended only a week ago, but no one had given her anything worth doing in that time period. She was almost ready, though, to sell everything and move on. Go back to the Isles, maybe, or Blackmarsh. Maybe Elsewyr?

**T-Thieves Guild**

It hadn't been a huge accident that she'd fallen in with the Thieves Guild. They didn't kill, and really, sneaking around and swiping everything that wasn't nailed down was something she did already. Being part of the guild meant that she had somene to sell all her stolen good to, and that money was useful indeed.

**U-Uriel**

"I am your Emporer," the old man said gravely.

Auriel chose to keep her comment-about being from the Summerset Isles-to herself. She had a feeling that the armed guards with him wouldn't take kindly to the comment, given that they seemed to be fleeing from an assasination attempt.

**V-Vindictive**

Fire swept out around her in a furious circle as she went after the bandits. But _no one_ got to attack her traveling companiosn and get away with it. Garrus gaped at her when the bandits were either all dead, or had run away screaming in pain.

"Remind me to stay on your _good_ side," he said. Then winced as she pulled his arm away to look at the injury.

"Like you'll need the reminder."

**W-War**

It had been a long time in coming. Strategic assassinations-some through the Dark Brotherhood, though they had fallen apart and been systematically hunted in the past two centuries-intelligence gathered, spies and soldiers placed with the subtle hand of the Aldmeri Dominion...

The war was bloody. Auri's spy work kept her out of the worst of it; however as the war dragged on, she became one of the many viewed with suspicion. More than once she had found herself sharing cell space with fellow-usually genuinely innocent-Altmer, and Bosmer. She was never in the cells very long, and once she was out, she caused as much controlled chaos as she could be freeing other prisoners.

It became a sort of talent. She never _liked_ it-jails were small, cramped, and she hated that with a passion-but sometimes she agreed to be caught on purpose to free others deliberately. Sometimes she recruited others to the side of the Thalmor. Sometimes not.

**X-(e)xaminite**

She held up her report, carefully examining her cipher for flaws. This was critical information about the White-Gold tower, information that-in the right hands-would lead to the Tower's final defeat, and the imprisonment of the current emporer at best.

At worst, well... the Empire needed to rememeber that not all things went as planned.

**Y-Young**

She was praised quietly, in whispers, for her deeds at such a young age. And empathized with, for her loss as well. Like so many in the Oblivion Crisis, she had lost family to the daedra. Her parents were both dead, and of her two siblings, there was no word, no sign.

She hadn't shown any pain or sorrow in public. Her pride, would not allow her to be anything but strong. In truth, being in the Isles would likely have meant her death as well. At least being in Cyrodiil had given her the opportunity to end the Crisis... even if every land had felt the touch of Oblivion before it had come to an end.

**Z-Zealous**

The zealots were annoying, but easy to infiltrate. At the behest of the new Sheogorath-and hadn't Garrus been shocked by _that_-she had gone to discover what the fools were up to. And kill them if necessary.


	9. Skyrim: Auriel

**A-Aela**

"A _true_ warrior always looks forward to testing their mettle."

"Well that explains why a lot of true warrior are dead," Auriel retorted sharply. "You didn't need my help, and I am a relatively unarmored _mage_, thank you."

The red haired Nord looked startled, then annoyed. Lucky for both of them, the other woman, a Breton female, spoke up.

"Aela, we should get back. Kodlak will want to hear all about it!"

"...hmph. Come to Jorrvaskr, if you want to be a Companion. But you'll have to talk to Kodlak yourself."

Auri flicked a glance over the three Companions, noting absently that the male had chosen to stay out of it, and shrugged. At the moment, she had a date in Riften, with the Thieves Guild. If this Companion group proved to be strong... perhaps she would consider adding them to her bulwark.

**B-Balgruuf**

In her own way, she was fond of the Jarl. But she had warned him, repeatedly, that remaining neutral would lead to him getting run over. His disapproval of her choice of allies was of little consequence to her; she owed him no alliegence, no loyalty, and no response. She did not have to live her life according to his expectations.

Still, as he was escorted out of Dragonsreach, she offered him a slight bow of respect. He deserved that much, at the least.

**C-Companions**

It had been Farkas who had finally swayed her in the direction of the Companions after her work with the Thieves Guild. She had to admit, it wasn't a bad choice either. They were a strong, and more importantly, famous group, noted for looking after their own.

She didn't get along with everyone-there was that Nord woman, but she picked fights with everyone, and Vilkas made no secret of his distrust of her-but on a whole, she found herself enjoying the work.

**D-Damage**

The war had done some damage around the Gildergreen tree just north of the market, but that seemed to be the worst of it. Well, that and the Battle-born's home, but with their wealth, they could easily rebuild.

Of her own home, Breezehome, the only thing that had happened was things had been rattled off of shelves. It had been a good decision to lock the door behind her when she'd left just prior to this battle.

**E-Eorlund**

"So, you're the one who helped my wife and sons," the smith nodded a greeting to her. "Thank you for that. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome," she smiled ever so slightly. "I... found the missive by accident, really, while on the way to do something else, and I figured it wouldn't do much good in the place it was. Finding out it tied into Mistress Fralla's uncertainties was pure luck."

**F-Farkas**

She wasn't sure what to think about him at first. She had barely taken note of him at their very first meeting, having been too distracted by Aela and her smart comment. And then under the sleeping Gildergreen he'd tried to touch ehr.

But the more she came to know him, the more she found herself... liking him. Caring about his opinion. Wishing her was at her side during particularly different fights.

Missing him, and finding her large bed in Breezehome a little... too big. Too lonely. She found herself staying at inns, despite the expense, because of it.

And she knew full well that he was attracted to her. Unlike herself, the large Nord wasn't subtle about things. Everything he felt was on his face, in his eyes, in his voice. In the beginning, it had been unnerving, and uncomfortable. Now though... it was a little painful, but the honesty he gave her was precious.

He'd made no secret of caring for her either, something that bewildered her, even as his gentility and kindness pulled her towards him.

**G-Graybeards**

Their voices rattled the air, startling her enough that her foot got caught between the wooden slats of the bridge, sending her sprawling. The fall was embarrassing, but on the bright side, the guards were just as rattled as she had been, and missed her landing.

**H-Harbinger**

There was something about the old man, Kodlak Whitemane, that intrigued her. She could feel his attention turn towards her whenever she walked into the room, or when he passed. It was a little like when Farkas would stare at her, but there was less... clear romantic intent, and more a thoughtful studying.

She noticed it, and filed it away to ask about later, when she'd had more time to grow into the Companions. Maybe then he'd be done with the study and willing to say something.

**I-Intense**

Her blue-green eyes narrowed slightly, focusing on the words Paarthurnax had carved onto the stone. She recalled the first word of Flame Breath-it was her favorite Thu'um-and now he was granting her a second.

She would have to find the third on her own, but it would be well worth the hunt. The second word made her flames all the stronger. And maybe, since this dragon seemed to be moderately friendly, he would be willing to teach her the language as well as the Shouts.

**J-Jorrvaskr**

She looked up at the mead hall from the base of the steps, tipping her head to the side. Thanks to the Guild and Farkas, she had learned quite a bit about the Companions. She hadn't yet set foot in Jorrvaskr itself, but she was preparing for it. If they really were as strong as all that, it would be good to have them to fall back upon should the worst happen.

**K-Kodlak**

Kodlak's journal told all. She hadn't meant to pick it up; rahter it had fallen out of the drawer when she had gone to retrieve the last fragment of Wuuthrad, and she had scanned the entry it had opened to.

And then the next. She had continued on until the final entry, reading his hopes for her, for the Companions, for thre freedom from the beastblood.

Slowly, gently, she closed the book, then rested her head in her hands, and wept bitter tears. She had failed to save the old man, both his life and his soul. It was already hard to face the Companions as it was... she wasn't sure she wanted to drag herself out of Kodlak's room to join the Circle in mourning in the underforge.

**L-Legion**

The legionnares were, she had to admit, fairly impressive. They had numbers, and decent enough armor, along with good weapons. But they lacked something that the Stormcloaks had. Imperial Legionnaires were from every walk of life. Stormcloaks had a unifying heart.

Not that she liked the Stormcloaks any better, she just knew that she was giving them the tactical advantage.

**M-Marriage**

The Amulet of Mara dangled from her fingertips as she lounged on her bed in Breezehome. She knew who she wanted to talk to while wearing it, but gods above she was nervous about it.

Still, never had she felt more... welcomed, more at home, than when Farkas had met her in front of her house, and she had walked into his arms. If nothing else, he could be her home, her rock... right?

And to be perfectly fair, he'd never been subtle about how he felt where she was concerned.

**N-Nord**

She studied Ulfric as he spoke to his commander, a gruff voiced Nord who had clearly spent a lot of time on teh battlefield to have a voice like that. He was a typical Nord in form and build; blond, strong, and yes, handsome, if one was into men like him. She wasn't, but she could understand why others might be.

What caught and held her attention was his charisma. The halls weren't packed, but he had inspired a whole host of men and women to follow him. He was charismatic, and a bit of an idealist. But he was also sensible. He would do what needed to be done, even if he didn't want to.

She cocked her head slightly to the side, then nodded, and began her approach.

**O-Order**

War was madness; she had known this for years. Officers gave orders, but there were soldiers who often didn't follow them, choosing instead to cause as much damage as possible to their enemy. So she was surprised to see that, beyond bombarding the walls with trebuchets, there was little genuine damage to Solitude. Oh, there was the occasional hole in the street, and some houses had decidedly been flattened, but the city wasn't devastated... and would, in fact, be easy to rebuild.

**P-Paarthurnax**

"Gro... hist?"

"Grohiik, kiir."

Auriel sighed and wrote the proper word down in her journal. She _would_ get the hang of the dragon language. Paarthurnax let out a low rumble of humor, and she elbowed him lightly, with a huff of her own that carried only steam from her breath in the cold air.

"What's next?"

**Q-Quiet**

The wilds of Winterhold were cold and damn near utterly silent. She was no fan of the cold, but there was nowhere else safer for her than lost in the wilderness. For if she was lost, how then, could the Thalmor track her?

**R-Revenge**

Nominally speaking, she was not one for revenge. At least, not immediately. A decent revenge took time, effort, and planning. In this case, Auriel had built herself not one, but two bases for protection. The Guild was monetary backing, the Companions had the muscle jobs. And with both of them to fall back on, she could now turn her attention to the Stormcloaks.

And with luck, the backing of the future High King would keep her safe from Thalmor retaliation.

**S-Stormcloaks**

They were a rabble, really. No formal training among the lot, they seemed to prefer the clash and bash and smash method. It was entertaining to watch them, to walk through their camps and hear the swearing, the ire, and the good-natured ribalding.

They had heart. They _knew_ what they were fighting for.

**T-Thalmor**

Her stomach clenched as she walked to Northwatch's outer walls, looking for a way up and over. Being here was an idea that was beyond bad, beyond _dangerous_, and yet... the look on the old womoan's face. The fury in the eyes of her son.

If she could get in and out silently, with minimal deaths, that would definately be better than a frontal assault. But if any of them saw her... well, that would have to end in a massace, to keep _any_ word from getting back to the Isles.

**U-Ulfric**

He wasn't someone she could talk to easily. He had a perfectly justifiable wariness around her, and she kept to herself as it was. But in their own way, they were friends. It didn't matter, in the end, that he was an idealistic, battle-weary Nord while she had a tendency to be a cynical, secretive Altmer. They got along. And when the Moot finally met, she would stand at his back as the Dragonborn, and keep him from harm.

**V-Vilkas**

They had never been precisely friendly. She knew he sensed something wrong with her, and she didn't begrudge him the suspicions. For her part, she thought he was a hot-headed arrogant idiot, and there was rarely middle ground between them.

It was almost... catharic to have someone to fight with, however. Smooene who wouldn't hold back; who would, in fact, push her even harder _because_ they didn't get along.

**W-Whiterun**

She liked the hold. It was decently sized, and while it wasn't the southernmost end, where warmth existed, it was _much_ more comfortable than some of the other holds in Skyrim. Her home was decently sized, and if it lacked an enchanting table, it made up for it by being... well, snuggly.

**X-(e)Xpecting trouble**

"You're paranoid," Aela said.

"If there's something out to get me, it's not paranoia," Auriel retorted, frowning. "It's preparation. Besides, taking on the Silver Hand was your idea. It's not like Jorrvaskr is a secret."

**Y-Yol**

Auri took in a deep breath, as the bandit hoarde congregated on her.

"Yol... Tor Shal!"

Fire flew outwards, and those that weren't killed were left screaming in pain as fire wrapped around them. The scent of singed meat and hair filled the cool air, and she covered her nose and mouth. She loved the shout, but the passing results always smelled horrible.

**Z-Zu'u**

"Zu'u dovakiin," she grinned a little at the expression on Odahviing's face. "Zu'u Briiyolkiir. At least," she chuckled a little dryly, "according to Paarthurnax, I am."


End file.
